Striving to Survive
by Drayconette
Summary: Recovering from his trip to space, Alex and Jack's plans are interrupted by an attack. He is forced, along with other individuals, to attend an SAS camp for protection and 'survival training.' Will the spy survive MI6's latest attempt to ruin his life?
1. Sick from Space

Disclaimer: If I had MY name on those Alex Rider books, I wouldn't bother using a pseudonym here. And this story would be published on paper, not just the web!

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**Striving to Survive**

Chapter 1

_Sick from Space _

Alex woke to a pounding headache.

The feeling was not new to him, and his instincts immediately kicked in. He remained still, feigning the idea that he hadn't yet awoken. Perhaps he'd be able to glean extra information, or at least have time to orient himself.

Then he realized that he was lying on something soft, with a warm covering, and not a cold hard floor. He heard a familiar voice singing off-key to an American song he recognized.

With relief, he remember that he was home now; in his own bed, with Jack downstairs. Safe. It seemed that he was much more used to the danger of his missions than the familiarity of his own home, anymore.

Sighing, he attempted to sit up and get out of bed. He soon realized this was a bad idea, as he was overcome by dizziness and his head and stomach protested vehemently. Grunting, he flopped back down onto his pillow, resigning himself to a lie in. At least he felt better than he had the day before, although that wasn't a very uplifting thought, as it was hard to think of feeling much worse than he did now.

On his return from space two days ago, he'd been immediately picked up by the Australian Coastal Guard and sent to hospital to await his visa. He didn't remember most of what had happened, for he'd been almost delirious with fever and other symptoms (1) that had struck him from his space adventure. From what Jack had said the previous night, before he'd fallen deeply asleep, he'd been drastically ill. Apparently, it was very hard on a still-developing, young body to be forced in and out of space with no conditioning.

_Who would have thought?_ Alex mentally snorted. Of course the American government and astronomers that had sent him out had known how bad it was for him. But they'd been desperate and he was "the only one who could help"- a phrase he was quite sick of hearing. At 5' 8" and having a well developed athletic body, he wasn't a small fourteen year old. In fact, he was sure there had to be astronauts that were smaller than him, ones that were well trained and could have been flown in to take his place in the outer worldly mission. But, as usual, the task was left for him to handle on his own, with no regard to how it may affect him.

Alex was brought out of his thoughts, as he heard his bedroom door opening. Jack came in, a smile on her face, carrying a tray of food.

"Hey there. You're finally awake!" She set her burden on his bedside table and sat beside him, on the edge of his bed. She looked concerned as she brushed some of his hair off his forehead, but seemed to come to herself a moment later and her usual grin came back. "It's nearly lunch time, and you never sleep this late. But that doctor guy that dropped you off yesterday said you'd probably sleep a lot, that it was good for your recovery and all that, so I just let you be. He said you'd probably be tired and kinda sick and have a headache, for a couple more days anyways, and I thought you might as well sleep it off. I heard you shifting a bit ago and knew you were coming around, so I went ahead and made you some food. They said to try and give you regular food now, but watch carefully and don't overdo it. So I just made some of everything I thought you might like, just in case. Well, most everything, you know I don't have the patience to make anything really fancy, but if you'd really like I could-"

"Jack." He interrupted her babbling with a gentle grin. She was always like this when he just got back from a mission. "It looks great. Thank you."

Summoning his strength, and steeling himself to the nausea, Alex slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. His head pounded ferociously, but he managed not to show his extreme discomfort; he didn't want Jack to worry more than she already was. He reached over for the tray, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to eat much, if anything. But he was willing to give it a try, to appease Jack and show he appreciated her effort. As he looked down at the toast, pancakes, eggs, yogurt, and juice, his stomach lurched. He swallowed down the nausea, with a forced smile at the perceptive Jack, and stuck a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth. After a few spoonfuls, he actually noticed the nausea decreasing a bit. There was no way he would be able to get down the greasy eggs or toast, but the yogurt actually seemed to help. He glanced back up at Jack, with a sincere smile this time.

The American wasn't looking at him anymore. She was gazing out the window with a worried, sad expression on her usually cheerful face. He hated to see her looking like that. She often would gaze at him with that expression and she spent too much time worrying over him when he was on assignments. He wished things were different, and he didn't have to cause her such angst.

"Jack? What is it?" he asked gently. She jerked out of her thoughts to look at him. "Look… I'm sorry I put you through all this. You shouldn't have to deal with me and all my issues. I know you worry a lot and-"

"Alex, chill." Jack cut in, placing two fingers on his lips with a mock-stern frown. "Sure, I worry about you when you're gone, but that's only 'cause I can't help but care about you. Hun, I've known you since you were a kid, taken care of you, and I'm not gonna stop now. I don't want to leave or be rid of you, and as long as it's within my power, I'll be here for you, to give you whatever support I can offer."

They silently looked at each other for several moments. Alex found himself immensely touched to know that, no matter what he did, or what happened on his 'missions,' Jack would always be here for him to return to. Forcing past the sudden lump in his throat, Alex swallowed and nodded.

"Thanks Jack. I… well, it's great to know that I still have someone whom I can trust is actually looking out for me. Of course," he added with a wry grin, as Jack smiled reassuringly, "this doesn't mean that I'm ever going to eat broccoli, no matter how good you say it is for me."

The redhead chuckled with a challenging look, and Alex went back to slowly forcing down some more of his meal. At the absence of Jack's retort to his refusal to eat 'healthily', however, the youth could tell there was still something wrong. His aching head gave a particularly painful throb, as he tried to figure out what to do.

"There's something else then?" Jack looked up, her face indecisive, "Jack, if there's anything I can do, if I could change what I have done, I would. I-"

"No, no, Alex. Look, see… my grandma, back in the states, is really sick. That's all. I… well, I didn't get a chance to see her when I was in the states. She was away visiting other relatives, since we all thought she only had a year or two left with her terminal disease… But I guess it's worsened and- and she could go any day now…" She trailed off, her face anguished.

"Oh Jack, I'm sorry." Alex reached forward, his meal forgotten, and put one of his large, callused hands over her slightly trembling petite ones.

"It's just… I used to be so close to my grandparents, and… I haven't seen her since before I came to England. I don't want her to- to die before I can say goodbye!" She sighed, looking mournfully and longingly into space.

"Jack… why don't you go back to America and be with your family? Your visit earlier was cut short anyhow…"

"No. Forget it. I couldn't leave you alone again. After what happened the last time I went off to America and left you on your own… I'm not going to make that mistake again. I told you, Alex, I'm going to look after you-" Jack's insistence was cut off by Alex quickly interrupting.

"I never said you had to leave me here. I wouldn't want to intrude on a such a personal reunion… but I could stay out of the way. I'd love to meet your family and see where you grew up and all. Tom could email me his notes and any assignments I need to get done from school- he's offered before. And… actually, Jack, I think I could use a bit of holiday right now. One where I don't spend all my time just… surviving."

The redhead studied him for a time before she answered. "Are you sure? You've missed so much school already, and I don't know if you're up to traveling."

"I have missed a lot of school, so a week or two more shouldn't matter much. Besides, this will give me more time to catch up, and like I said, Tom can send me the current assignments and lectures. As for traveling… I've been shipped around in a lot worse condition than I'm in now." This last comment didn't seem to reassure Jack at all, so he quickly added, "But didn't you say the doctor thought I should be recovered in a couple of days? We could leave in a few days, that would give me the weekend to start feeling better. It'll take a few days to get a flight, pack, and make the plans anyways, won't it?"

Jack nodded, thinking it over. She seemed to really want it to work, but was cautious for Alex's sake. "Well I suppose it could work… I have some extra money saved up… enough to get us a couple of tickets… and I know my parents would love you, wouldn't mind putting us up at all… I did promise you, before that whole Ark Angel mess, that we were going to take a good long vacation away from bloody MI6. Didn't come through with it as well as I could have, did I?" She gave him a guilty, regretful grin and noticed the long untouched meal. "Are you done eating? Okay then. I'll go take care of the rest of this, then make some calls. Why don't you get some more rest… Are you _sure_ that you want to do this? You still look pretty sick…"

"I'll be fine. Promise. I'm already feeling loads better today, than I was yesterday. I want you to be able to see your family, Jack. People only have one lifetime; don't let a little worry for me stand in the way of you being with your grandmother before she's gone. And besides, I think this trip could be good for me as well. So go on, I'll try to help out with the packing as soon as I feel like I can stand without passing out." But he spoke with a grin, and Jack shook her head at what she thought were antics.

"Okay. I'm leaving… I think this will work, kid. You're not going to have to deal with anymore of that spy stuff, not if I can help it."

As she left the room, back to humming off-tune, Alex relaxed back onto his pillow. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He was doing it for Jack, he didn't think she should be stuck to his crazy schedule. Yet, he meant what he'd said. All of it. Things were looking up for once, in a long while. He slipped back to sleep, thinking of a long break from the spying, running, killing, hurting, and espionage that he was so good at, but hated so.

Unfortunately, as had happened so often in the past, things just weren't going to work out how Alex wanted them to. His past had no plans to leave him alone to set a new future, and things didn't look up for long.

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1) I'm not sure what symptoms there would be actually, you can use your own imagination.

**So, I hope you all liked it. I'll see what I get for reviews before I bother writing more. This is my first fic I've written, and I'm hoping it's okay. I have some pretty fun ideas for future… but it depends on whether people like the fic enough for me to go on. So- it's up to you guys. Review!!**


	2. Antonymic Memories

Disclaimer: Riiiiight...

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_**Striving to Survive**_

Chapter 2

_Antonymic Memories_

The whistle blew loudly across the field.

"Alright! Good enough for today. Turn in and get your reeking bodies in the showers!"

With a relieved sigh, Alex turned from the goal and headed to the locker rooms. Practice was finally over and he could go home and sleep for a year or two. He was so exhausted.

This was his second day back at school, and the coach had wanted to see if he was still any good. His long absences had almost cost him his spot on the football team, but he'd been good enough before to make the coach not want to lose him. Their team was one of the best in the league, and most of the players were older classmen, in their last year or two of school. Alex was the youngest player on their team, with Tom as his fallback. They were both extremely promising players, but the coach had seen more promise in Alex and had trained him harder, with the rest of the main team.

Now, Coach Wiseman (1) was watching Alex closely, to see if there was any point keeping him on the team at all. Not wanting to lose his spot, Alex had tried hard to play well. He still showed talent, but the trip to space, and the subsequent illness, had left him weak and had severely diminished his endurance. He hated the feeling, but couldn't do anything about it at the moment. He decided he would be spending frequently time at a gym in America to get his body back to where it had been. He knew the coach expected as much from, if he was going to get his spot back when he returned.

His thoughts turned to the trip to America as he walked across the playing field, lagging behind the others. He'd spent the weekend recovering, finally having the energy to walk around the house without collapsing. Jack spent all her time packing, planning, making calls, and being her usual animated self. They were set to leave on Wednesday at 11am.

_Less than twenty hours away._ Alex thought. He'd decided he needed to at least show at school for a day or two, to get any instructions or assignments from the teachers, before he left for another few weeks. Jack had, at first, been opposed to the idea, saying he shouldn't bother, but stay home, get better, and help her pack. He knew she was just worried about him, not wanting to let him out of her sight. But she'd changed her mind completely after a certain, unwanted phone call.

"_Rider place, this is Jack." She'd been in the middle of making lunch; Alex was in the next room on the couch. "What? No, he's… indisposed… I said __**no**__."_

_His eavesdropping skills well tuned from his spying, Alex heard her answer the phone. Then her voice dropped low, probably so he couldn't overhear, and was laced with anger. He sat up, frowning. Usually only one person, or organization, made Jack talk that way._

"_Why don't you think he should go back? It's school! Every kid should be in school… That's ridiculous… Catch up __**where**__?! No way! … Forget it! Look, I don't know who you people think you are, but Alex isn't your animal to boss around and train to do tricks. I don't care if you're head of MI6, Elvis Presley, or the president of the United States! He's not speaking to you, he's not going __**anywhere near**__ the bank, and he's bloody sure not going to be forced into anymore 'missions!' So, leave us alone!" _

_Alex was mildly shocked at the fierce barrage, but not unpleasantly so. He grinned slightly as he heard the phone slam into the receiver. He settled back on the couch, feeling a heavy knot, that he hadn't even realized was there, loosen. After a few minutes Jack called him into the kitchen to eat. _

"_Who was that on the phone?" she obviously hadn't wanted him to hear the conversation, so he brought it up for her to talk about. _

"_Hmm? Oh, just some crazy sales person, wanted to sell you a great new bike or something. Must have gotten your number from when we were bike-shopping for your last birthday." She grinned at him, setting a grilled cheese sandwich at his place. Grilled cheese was her specialty. "Now, speaking of going to school- I think it's a great idea. You can get caught up with friends, and get a feel of where you need to be in classes. As long as you don't overdo yourself, if you want to go for a couple days before we leave, I won't stop you."_

_Alex wasn't surprised with her sudden change in opinion. Finishing a bite of sandwich, he gave Jack one of his half smiles. For once, MI6 had done something useful for him, however unintentional._

Walking absently, Alex approached the storage shed, set next to the school fence, at the edge of the practice fields. He came out of the memory, focusing on the small building beside him. He, oddly, had fond memories of the storage shed. Just last summer, during the few weeks he was actually home, he'd helped the team and some other volunteers, fix it up and repaint it. They'd ended up covered in paint, from the teens' playful 'slips' with the brushes. Then there'd been a huge water fight when trying to clean up. The whole group had gone for ice-cream afterwards, overwhelming the shocked waitress.

He smiled fondly at the memory. But his face dropped as he realized that that had been the last time he'd had such a good time with friends. Missing school, and being consequently alienated by the absences, had kept him from being involved with other groups and activities. He felt a sudden, intense feeling of longing and loneliness wash over him. What he wouldn't give to have those times back, no more missions or nightmares or unfriendly stares.

Not one to let himself dwell in self-pity, he forced himself to remember that he was leaving tomorrow. He could put all the horrific missions behind him; hopefully, when he got back, he could make more of those memories like fixing up the storage shed. He walked forward, stepping past the shed, determined to make a new start for himself.

Instinctual alarm bells went off in his head as he sensed something lunge toward him, out of his peripheral vision. He dived to the side, away from the corner of the shed, jumping up from a roll, into a fighting stance. Processing the threat, he was grudgingly thankful for his instincts that had saved him, once again.

A tall, muscled thug was regaining his balance a few feet away. He was dressed in black, a knife in his hand, and a large tattoo of a spiked ball showing on his forearm. He turned to Alex and smirked maliciously.

"Alright kid, time for some fun."

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1) I didn't know the coach's actual name, before- but a considerate reviewer let me know. Thanks!

**A.N. Sorry this took so long to write. And I know it's not very long- I've been SO busy. I actually do have more I could add on to the chapter; I'd originally planned it to be twice this long… But it would take me even longer to get around to finding the time to type it all out, then edit it, and I thought I'd better not keep readers waiting too long. **

**As it is, I still don't have a beta- so if anyone has a suggestion for a good one- let me know! Hope you like the new chapter- tell me what you think!! **

**(Necessary for a quicker, longer update next time- REVIEW!)**


	3. Things Never Change

Disclaimer: I thought up the nasty spiked-ball guys all by my ownself. Wait… Is that bad?

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_**Striving to Survive**_

Chapter 3

_Things Never Change  
_

Alex grunted as he blocked a particularly fierce punch, his arm throbbing from the impact. _Where did this guy come from? What's he doing hiding around the school storage shed, attacking students? _ However, he did know that he wasn't just another random student. He couldn't help but think that his 'spy past' he'd just a few moments before committed to put behind him, was catching up to him, once again. He didn't have much time to give it more thought, as he ducked another wild lunge with the knife. _First things first- get rid of the weapon._

Feigning a high strike, Alex kicked lightning fast at the thug's hand. He felt the knife nick his shin, but saw the sharp weapon fly satisfyingly over the school chain-link fence. His brief moment's distraction, to make sure the knife was good and disposed of, rewarded him with a hammer blow to the sternum, making him double over with a grunt. He stepped quickly out of reach, caught his breath, then came back at the man with a vicious upper strike. It caught the man hard under the chin, and while he was blinking back the stars, the teen brought him down with a few more well-placed strikes.

Panting, Alex stepped back from the sprawled attacker. What was going on? Who was this man? Cautiously, he crouched down to go through the man's pockets. The spy in him made it priority to make sure he knew everything he could about what was happening around, and especially to, him.

Just as he reached to turn the man over, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He jumped up and spun around- too late. Another man, same clothes, same tattoo, same malicious grin, stood in front of him. But this time, the choice of weapon was different, and Alex now knew this was all more than a random attack or abduction.

"Get over t' the side of that shed, if yeh know what's good for yeh. Hands above your 'ead. Now!" The new man gestured with his .22 caliber pistol and Alex reluctantly did as he was told. Turning his head to watch, Alex saw the man bend down next to the unconscious one, checking his status. After a moment, he grunted, and came over to stand behind Alex. Without warning, he swung the gun down, cuffing Alex hard.

Alex staggered onto one knee, black floating into his vision. But the man yanked him back up by his hair. "Tha's for bein' trouble and messin' with me mate! Now le's go. The others is waitin'."

He shoved Alex away from the wall, toward the locker rooms. The teen had no choice but to do as the brute said. Alex hardly had the breath and strength to walk steadily, let alone resist. After being ill, pushing himself too far during practice, fighting the other man, and the multiple blows he'd received, he was lucky he wasn't unconscious. He only hoped he got his second wind soon, or he would be helpless, something he'd never accepted of himself before.

To Alex's surprise, he was marched to the locker rooms. Yet another man, with the same appearance, stood watch at the door.

"This the last of them? Carl's been waiting, and you know he's not got a lot of patience. Where's Alan?"

"I know 'e 'as. But this devil," he shoved Alex roughly toward the locker-room door. "He's been causin' probl'ms. Alan's back there 'ways- might want t' go try an rouse 'im. Dunno 'ow the blighter done it."

"Right. Well, you'd better get in there. Carl's not going to be happy as it is. We've got the others all under control. I'll go take care of that brute, Alan." The guard gave the boy a studious glare, then nodded to his companion and headed off.

Alex was trying to catch his breath, come up with a plan, and listen carefully to try and figure out what was going on. Suddenly, he was shoved toward the door, apprehensive of what he was going to find inside. From what he heard, he had an idea, but whatever the case, entering the building would severely limit his options of escape.

His captor reached around him to open the door, then shoved him inside. Already not in his best of conditions, he stumbled from the blow and fell hard onto the cement floor. The door slammed behind him and he looked up to see his chances of escaping safely plummet drastically.

Several black-clad men with guns were guarding the rest of his team. All of the students, and even the coach, were off to one side of the room, hands on their heads, still in their uniforms. Apparently the attackers had been waiting for them and had set up an ambush. The team looked frightened and confused, and were now all staring at the two new-comers.

"This's the last of 'em. He's been causin' trouble." While he spoke, Alex's original captor yanked on the boy's arm, bringing him to his feet.

"Shut up and just get him over there with the others. We don't have time for this! How much trouble could he give you? Look at him- he's just a kid and seems about ready to collapse, too."

Alex was shoved over to the rest of his team as Carl, apparently the leader, turned to speak quietly to a short, mousey man next to him. The young spy bit back a groan as he leaned against a locker for support. The other teens were glancing between their captors and Alex with worried, questioning looks, but they were too apprehensive to say anything. Alex tried to ignore it all, watching his surroundings carefully and wracking his brains for a way out. He jerked when he felt a strong hand land on his shoulder. Coach Wiseman was frowning down at his youngest player, taking in the bruise on his forehead and gash on his leg. Looking back up into the teen's too-old eyes, he nodded, conveying silent support.

"Alright, schoolboys, listen up!" Carl spoke harshly to the team, turning from his conversation with the short man who hurried away, then smirked as he focused particularly on the coach. "You too, gramps. You're going to do exactly as you're told. I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt. The local authorities have made some bad decisions concerning some football games that we aren't too happy with. You all get the unique experience of participating in our… negotiations."

Alex almost groaned aloud as he was overcome with relief, frustration, and disbelief. At least this wasn't his fault. But he couldn't believe that he'd gotten into a hostage situation over a game, despite the fact that the finals coming up were a huge event every year. He glanced around the room again, but couldn't come up with anything he could do. There were- taking a quick count- 8 black-clad men in the room. Each with a spiked-ball tattoo, gun, and watching the hostages closely. He'd have to stick this one out, and hope the government could do their job, this time, and get them all out of the situation safely. _That's asking for a lot._

The short accomplice came rushing back in. "The recorder is all ready. We should hurry and get the video over with, before one of the brats does something sneaky or someone else com-"

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. And what is anyone going to do? I was put in charge, and I'll do it _my_ way. Remember that you cowardly fool." Seemed Carl certainly had a very short fuse. He turned back to the hostages, his eyes scanning through the group. He grinned maliciously, "Right- grab the old man and the troublemaker- they can be the first examples. Make sure they're secure so they can't resist."

Alex found himself yanked roughly away from the group, then spun around and shoved into a wall. He automatically moved to react to the harsh treatment, but caught himself just in time. _This is no time for foolish resistance. They're going to do whatever they want, anyways. Save yourself some pain._ So he merely grimaced into the wall as the man snatched his wrists and tied them painfully tight with some sort of wire. He was spun back around and two men grabbed an arm each, lugging him over to the door. He noticed his coach receiving the same treatment.

A few students started to protest, upset that their adult ally was being taken away. Alex heard the guards arguing back, but the door shut behind them, silencing the protests. He and Coach Wiseman were taken around the building, into a secluded spot of greenery, just outside the fence, sheltered from traffic, but where you could see the school in the background. There was video equipment set up, facing the school, and the short man hurried over to it.

As there were less guards now, only four along with Carl and the short, nervous man, Alex paid close attention to any slip they might make that would give him the advantage. But he was exhausted, tied up, and being held by two large men. He was still not able to do anything. He felt frustration mounting. He couldn't believe that he was right next to his school, with his _football coach_, not involved in any missions, and his life was _still_ in danger. What was wrong with him?

The short man informed Carl that everything was ready, the guards stepped out of the screen, and soon they were filming, showing Alex and the coach, tied up in front of the school. Carl stepped up behind them, and stuck his gun into Alex's neck.

"Hello there, mates." He began with fake cheerfulness. "We have two of your precious citizens right here with us. They were only too happy to help us out. But they're not going to be able to stick around for very long, unless we get some quick results. See-"

His speech was suddenly cut off as one of the guards from the locker rooms rushed into the clearing, holding a bleeding arm.

"We're found out! They're everywhere! SAS- got the kids- pourin' in all over the place- just barely got away. What're we s'posed to do? I'm getting out of here!" he staggered a bit more, then, despite Carl's hollered commands, he and the nervous, short man took off into the brush. Carl cursed loudly, knocking the still recording video to the ground where it smashed, now useless.

"This wasn't supposed to happen! Alright- let's go! Bring the old man. And you're comin' with me!" He yanked Alex after him by the arm as he took off running. Alex was a bit confused on what was going on; the kidnappers seemed to be much too confused and surprised. But he thrust his suspicions to the side for now- this was his chance. He dug his heels into the ground, jerking Carl back. The man growled and swung at him, but the teen ducked it, coming back up with a kick ready. The man had anticipated him; he'd already let go and dodged out of the way. He brought his gun up and snarled, "Blast their bloody instructions, the whole deal's ruined now anyway. Sean was right- you're too much trouble kid. Say bye now-"

Alex prepared himself to lunge out of the way, but knew it would be hopeless as the man was just too close. Just before he would have been shot (again), Alex felt an unexpected flash of pain on his upper arm, and Carl cried out. He dropped the gun, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He recovered quickly however and, with manic rage in his eyes, now beyond caring about escape, Carl lunged at Alex. The man had been shot (by the same bullet that grazed Alex), but he wasn't out of action yet. The teen dodged to the side, but tripped over a large branch and, unable to recover or catch himself with his hands tied, landed hard on the ground, hitting his head on a stone.

After a few moments, his vision cleared and he looked up to see two large, muscular arms, one adorned with a spiked ball, bearing down on him. He jerked away, but Carl jammed a knee into his stomach to hold him down, and seized his throat. Alex, the sensation of being choked unpleasantly familiar, struggled desperately to get away, but was swiftly losing energy. He couldn't breath, his head was light, his vision swam in and out. He felt his body go limp, unable to dredge up the effort to resist anymore.

He couldn't believe the irony of the situation. After everything, all the spying and luck, he was now going to die by some random obsessed sports radical.

Suddenly, the pressure on his chest and restricting his airway was gone. He gasped, blinking up at a worried face, his mind too foggy to register his coach's urgent words. His eyes slipped closed, his body finally having taken enough.

_Why does his tattoo look... faded… ?_ was his last thought, as blackness completely took over.

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**Wow. That took forever to write. And I bet the author I beta for hates me, since I haven't had a chance to look over theirs (sorry shelubby! I will get on it asap) I just have so many classes and exams right now, I hope you all don't expect too often of an update. But I'll do my best. I don't know how you other authors are so amazing that you throw out an amazing chapter a week, but it just totally doesn't work for me. I totally am not going to give people grief about slow updates anymore (at least, unless it's been months. That's just... bad prioritizing. lo) **

**Anyways, enough of my babbling- people let me know what you think, please. And again, if anyone knows a good beta... I'm up for suggestions!!  
**


	4. No Choice

Disclaimer: And I quote; "Man is an idiot. He doesn't know how to do anything without copying, without imitating, without plagiarizing, without aping."

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**Striving to Survive**

-Chapter 4-

_No Choice_

S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S

Alex woke with a pounding headache.

But instead of a slow awakening, like a few days before, his memories of what brought him to this state rushed back the moment he reached consciousness. He sat bolt upright, eyes flying open, body on full alert. He barely suppressed a wince at the pain that flared through him from the movement. As his eyes jerked to assess his situation, he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder and press him back into the…

Wait. He was lying on a sort of cot. Right. No need for immediate action, despite what his natural instincts were telling him. No breaking the hand on his shoulder. His nerves now calmed, he allowed himself to relax onto the crude mattress and let his mind catch up. There was someone talking to him, he just now realized.

"…were pretty worried for a while there. Got some nasty bruises on you. But that soldier medic said you should be alright." Alex turned his head to see his dark-eyed football team captain rambling on, his hand now removed from Alex's shoulder. "Don't get up too fast, mate. I bet you'll have a load of trouble fighting off the dizziness from that head of yours. D'know how you managed it before. Oi, Markson- get the coach. He said to let him know when Rider woke up."

"Right… but he's talking to those SAS blokes over there. I probably shouldn't bother them…" the tall, dark haired John Markson, one of the oldest on the team, looked uneasy at the idea.

"They've been talking for hours now. Just do it." The older boy scowled, but turned and walked to the other side of what Alex now saw was a huge, concrete room. Pausing a moment to take in his surroundings properly, he noticed the mostly bare room, occupied by his entire team and at least half a dozen imposing men in SAS uniform. There was a long table with chairs in the middle, and several cots, like the one he was now lying on, set up against the walls. His eyes snapped back to the teen beside his bed as the team captain spoke again. "So… er… how are you feeling?"

"Like a maniac tried to strangle me." He croaked. His throat was sore from the near-strangulation. Considering all the abuse his body had taken, the admittance was an understatement. He was still quite disoriented, annoyed at his unusual sluggishness. "How long have I been out? What happened?"

"Can't say for sure. It was about five hours ago when all the SAS soldiers burst in and took out all those gang blokes, if that helps. They rounded us all up into trucks and brought us to this "secure unit." I'm not really sure what's going on actually. I think we're still in danger or something…" he paused, then quickly changed the subject "Hope you get on your feet soon. Coach has been right worried about you-"

"I still am." the coach cut in, having come over immediately at the news of his youngest player's consciousness. "Thanks for watching him for me there, Canter. I'll take it from here. Then those men need to take his statement."

He jerked his head towards the SAS men talking quietly in the corner. Canter nodded and walked off, giving Alex a last curious glance. Alex himself was just trying to keep up with everything and get himself oriented. Everything seemed to be going too quickly for him to keep up. He wasn't used to this feeling of being so confused and unprepared. It was frustrating that his well earned composure was proving so difficult to don.

"Rider?! Ri- Alex?" Finally his thoughts caught up and he realized that his coach had been trying to get his attention, a heavy frown of concern on his face. "Glad to see you in the land of the waking. I was a bit concerned when I stopped that Carl brute who was attacking you. But you seem alright. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." He painfully sat up, ignoring his coach's deepening frown. Now that he was finally in control of himself his brain was demanding answers. "What are we doing here?"

"You don't need all the particulars, but they're keeping us here for our protection. They just want to make sure no more of those men come after us. That's all you need to know." He seemed to close up after that, unwilling to share all of the details with the injured teen. He was the adult in charge of these boys now, and he was determined to look after them until the whole mess was over with. They certainly didn't need to know the danger they were all still in; there was no point worrying them and it wouldn't help in any way. Although, looking into Rider's haunted, weary brown eyes, he somehow got the feeling that their situation wouldn't be unfamiliar to the boy. The older man looked away, uneasy.

"Sir…"

Wiseman looked up.

"I, er…" Alex started, awkwardly. "I want to thank you, for getting that man off me. I, well, I wasn't in a state to do it myself. Anyway, thanks."

"Rider!" the man seemed slightly appalled. "Of course you weren't expected to deal with him yourself! I'm impressed you held him off as long as you did. I'm only upset I didn't get there sooner. You shouldn't have had to go through that…"

Alex shifted uncomfortably, "Yeah, well-"

"I see you're awake!" The two turned to look at the newcomer. Alex was thoroughly surprised to see a familiar man arrive at the bed with a couple SAS soldiers tailing along. The coach frowned slightly and stood to meet him. "I trust you've ascertained that the boy will be alright? Good. Right then- I'll need to speak with him for a few moments. Get his statement and all, y'know."

"Well he's still recovering, so take it easy on him." Coach Wiseman boldly commanded. He gave a last glance at Alex, then turned and went to speak to Carter.

Alex kept his eyes on the man in front of him. His 'visitor' gave the other two soldiers a nod, which sent them to stand a few feet away, and took a seat in the chair by the bed. By now Alex was tense and sat watching the man warily, ready for anything.

Finally, the man looked up, a grin slowly sliding across his face.

"Hello there, Cub. Long time, no see!"

"Fox." Alex had no idea what else to say. Instead he sat stonily, waiting for his old unit-mate to make the next move.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself into quite the fix again, eh?" Fox smirked and settled back into the chair, but didn't waste any more time with pleasantries. "You're in luck though, we got all you kids out safe and sound- no worries. Apparently though, things aren't over- the men that attacked you aren't done yet and have started searching all over for you, they seem to think you're all threats because you're witnesses. Thing is, they've apparently done stuff like this before, but they've never left witnesses. They're not all that great at it, incompetent really, but they've managed to get away every time. Their leader, Carl Norack, is good at getting supporters. There are always loads of avid sports fans out there, and he loves getting a rise out of people."

He paused in the explanation as one of the other soldiers came to give him a brief report. As they conversed quietly, Alex went over what he'd been told. It didn't sit right. Something in the account just didn't work with what had happened… something Carl had said…

Fox had finished his conversation and looked at Alex. The teen stowed his unease in the back of his mind; he'd figure it out later.

"In any case," the SAS man continued from where he left off. "The higher-uppers are pretty sure he'll be coming after you lot, and letting you go back home and to school, where they can easily get to you- It's out of the question. Plus they, for obvious reasons, don't want this getting around. They've managed to hush things up the other times it's happened but now, since you're all underage students…"

"The public would have a field day." Alex cut in sarcastically, not missing the irony of the situation.

"Exactly. They've decided to keep you all together and in a well protected, er… productive environment. I got the memo just a few minutes before you woke up, and, I've got to say, I'm rather surprised. Though I shouldn't be… they've done it before…" he trailed off.

Alex had a bad feeling about this. The man's choice of words and hesitation were sending off ominous vibes. Well, Alex had always found it was better to just know, and was impatient with the stalling. He set his jaw and leaned forward, grabbing Fox's attention.

"Where." It came out more of a command than a question. Fox understood and got to the point.

"SAS training grounds. Brecon Beacons in Wales. They figure you'll be safe th-" But Alex didn't let him finish.

"You've got to be joking!" This was ridiculous. They were all mental. What was with Blunt and sending schoolboys to the bloody SAS?! He couldn't help but rant. "There has _got_ to be other places we could go that would be safe? Don't you even have any secure houses? What about sending us on a cruise overseas? Taking us out of the country for a week?! Or even…"

He trailed off suddenly. Jack. America. He _was_ going out of the country! He didn't need to worry about any of this. There was no way this crazy Norack bloke would hunt him down in the States. He almost laughed in relief. Fox was giving him a strange look from his sudden mood change.

"Look, Cub," He began. "It wasn't my decision. Personally I think it's a bad idea too, but I-" Once again Alex cut him off.

"It's fine. Doesn't matter. You can take the poor blokes to that bloody place; in fact, I bet some would even find it exciting. I don't care. I was already planning on going out of the country tomorrow morning, so you don't have to worry about me. I'll be safe and away from this whole messed up country."

Alex knew he was rambling. He was vaguely surprised at how much he seemed to be doing that lately. Normally, he was inclined to sit back and observe; only speaking when necessary. But he was still trying to get over this blasted illness that seemed to have thrown his whole system into a loop. His usually impressive awareness, recuperation, and self-control were still not up to normal levels. Suddenly he realized they had failed him again, as he glanced up and noticed a clearly uncomfortable Fox.

"Alex… I don't think that will work." The man looked away uneasily as Alex's eyes narrowed. "They specifically said you had to go. I don't know what you've been up to since I last saw you… but it's apparent that you're serious stuff. The memo I got said you needed time to 'safely get back up to standards.'"

He paused at the look on the teen's face. His previous relaxed expression was gone, replaced with an emotionless stone wall. His eyes were ice-cold and Fox had to look away, unnerved. He waited for a reaction, but there was none, so he tried to relieve the tension.

"I'm sure it won't be for long…" he continued haltingly. "And you _will_ be safe there… that's what matters. I'm sure it's not your favorite option but-"

"I'm not going." Alex almost snarled, interrupting yet again.

"Cub, there's really nothing you or I can do about it. I might be in charge of these men, but the order's already been sent and things arranged. They're assigning men now to take you there… you'll probably be in Wales before morning."

Before anything else was said, a soldier walked quickly up to Fox.

"Sir, you're needed. Sergeant has assigned the majority of the unit a new mission. Replacements will arrive before 2200. He wants you to report in at HQ asap."

"Understood. Dismissed." The soldier nodded, and left. Fox stood, looking back at Alex. "I have to go. Don't make trouble about this. It's to protect you."

"I'm _not_ going." He tried again, panicking inside. "I had plans. I'll be safe there. What about my guardian? She'll be waiting for me, worried. What about all the other boys' families? Will they even know what happened to us? It's not possible that the government does this for every threatened group of people! Why is this so necessary? It's ridiculous!"

"I told you, I don't know. But it's out of our decision now. I'm sure they have something worked out. And you're not going to be convincing Blunt now- especially in your state." He gave Alex another once over, taking in his shadowed eyes and various injuries. He couldn't help but feel concerned. Despite the teens calm façade; the desperation was clear in his eyes. The idea of the whole team going to train with the SAS was still quite ridiculous to the older man too. But he had his orders. "Just… work on getting better and… I'm sure you can take that trip with your guardian once this is all over."

At that, the man turned and headed for the rest of the soldiers. Alex watched despondently as he spoke briefly to the coach, rounded up all but a few men, and led the troop out a heavily secured door. The weary teen's former unit-mate never looked back. Despite his common sense telling him that Fox just had a job to do, he couldn't help but feel abandoned. Just when he thought he was going to get away from the world of Alan Blunt, SAS, and danger. Could he _never_ expect to live a normal life?

His whole football team was just a few yards away sitting around talking. He felt a heavy sense of foreboding and guilt. Had he dragged them into this? Were their lives going to be destroyed as well?

He sighed, finally getting rid of the denial. He knew, without doubt, that despite his desires, things would never be the same.

S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S

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**A.N. I'm sorry to all my readers and amazing reviewers. I know it's been forever. It was sort of a boring chapter too… The future ones should be better, but no promising how long they will take. Life gets in the way and it takes me longer to write action than dialogue… but I'm sure it won't take months like this one did!**

**Now, on another note, I'm not trying to make the coach old. I had some people mention I was making out to be an old man, but that was just the bad guys talking and stuff. I'd say he's in his early 40s and still quite fit. He IS the football coach, after all. Hope that clears that up.**

**Anyhow- enough rambling. Review! Please. I really like to know what you think. I'll even change things that are wrong, etc. if you notice/care. SAS and (I'm sure you guessed it) more K-Unit in the next chapter! So please, Review and keep reading!!!!!**


	5. Sleepless

**Disclaimer: Seriously, what would happen if I said I own all Alex Rider books and copyright? About the same as if I said I own Microsoft, Tesco, and the Taj Mahal. I mean, honestly?**

_AN: First off, I lied. Took me much longer than a week or two. I have no excuse, not really. Except work and school and life getting in the way. But here it is. _

_Now, I want to get it across now that Alex has a LOT of scars and seems to be constantly bruised or injured in some way. So if the K-Unit saw him shirtless, or whatever, they aren't ONLY going to notice his bullet wound. Plus, since they know people have held him at gunpoint and want to hurt him (Point Blank ring a bell?) I find the fics where they almost have apoplectic fits at the thought of him being shot… well, a tad extreme. Anyways, just a warning to let you all know that I'm NOT going to spend the whole fic with Alex worrying someone is going to see his bullet wound or having the unit overreact and go super-protective-brothers-for-life on him if/when they do._

_Also, for those who are confused: football is soccer. Pretty much everyone BESIDES American's call it football. _

_That was rather long… but it's been really long since I last updated… So, without further ado and all that- Chapter 5._

* * *

**Striving to Survive**

-Chapter 5-

_Sleepless_

S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S

Alex stared at the ceiling of the cabin, letting the noise of his classmates wash over him.

Three days. They'd already been in this horrible place for three days. Surprisingly, Alex hadn't hated it. The football team had actually done hardly anything with the rest of the SAS camp or too physically demanding, and now he was basically recovered from his illness. Go figure.

After their late-night trip here, the boys had been given a large bunkhouse to stay in and a general schedule to follow. They got up each morning in time for breakfast at the mess hall at 7:30. They would have school reading and homework to do for several hours, sent in from Brookland, and overseen by Coach Wiseman. Their coach made sure to take advantage of the extra time with his team and in the afternoon they spent hours training and scrimmaging. But that was the most physical thing that was required, and Alex found himself benefiting greatly from the schedule, exercise, and bland but highly nourishing food.

After dinner they were free to relax or do as they pleased, all under the watchful eye of their coach, of course. Although the team could get quite loud and rowdy, the more outlandish ideas of the boys never saw it past the door of the bunkhouse; they all knew not to push the large man.

Alex used the extra time in the evenings to catch up on school and sleep, and to write to Jack. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to get the letters to her, and he didn't know what had happened to her, what she'd been told. Was she worried about him? Did she think he had chosen to leave without telling her anything?

He shook his head, trying not to dwell on it. It wouldn't help to obsess about things he couldn't control. And really, as much as he hated the idea of being here, it really hadn't been that bad. He'd arrived tired, sore, and rather sickly. For once the stories of him being ill were easily believed. But now he was basically up to his normal fitness, and yesterday, when he'd gotten up before the rest of the boys to start up his daily run again, he'd found himself able to go nearly as far as usual. He was surprised that something that he was sure MI6 had come up with had actually helped him, though he was still frustrated and not at all over the fact that they had forced him into this when he had his own plans with Jack, without even letting him explain it to her…

Another thing that surprised him was that, not only was the days spent here helpful in his recovery, but he hadn't had any problems with the soldiers or the fact that he'd already spent a full 10 days in the camp. The few men he recognized from before didn't seem to notice him and no one seemed to have been told that one of the "Brookland kids" as they'd been dubbed, was the former "Cub." The football team had very little to do with the rest of the camp; in fact, on the first day they'd sat through an hour long lecture from one of the sergeants that, if they stayed out of the way and did as they were told, just as the soldiers had been instructed, there would be no problems or interactions. For the most part it had been true. A few times they would attend various SAS seminars and lessons on things like first aid, survival, and emergency response. But, for the most part, there were no interactions with the soldiers. Alex was glad. He really didn't want the stress of having to keep his cover with the SAS and his team.

His musings were interrupted as he saw their coach come back through the door, a frown creasing his weathered face. He'd left a while ago with one of the sergeants and was now trying to get the boys' attention. Alex sat up as his teammates slowly quieted down and turned to Wiseman.

"Boys, I've just been talking to Sergeant Mores. It seems that tomorrow we're going to be doing some training with some soldiers. Someone who thinks they know everything has decided that because you boys are 'targets' now, you're going to need some special training." His frowned deepened as he said this and it took a few moments to get the outbursts from the boys quieted down. "Look, I don't have any say in this. If I did, it wouldn't be happening. I think most of you are too young to be learning such things, especially without your parents' permission. But we don't really have a choice here."

"What are going to be learning?" Canter spoke up, leaning casually against a wall. "It can't be so bad, we're not little kids."

"And you're certainly not adults." Wiseman shot back with a steady look. "I'm not sure exactly what they have planned, but I definitely think it's going to be more intense than the first aid lectures we've been to so far."

"Yeah, but that was boring anyhow." Alex glanced over at William Strone as the thin boy spoke up from where he sat, his white shirt standing out sharply on his dark skin. "I already know about all that emergency stuff, my mum being a paramedic and all. I think I'd rather be doing something more interesting."

"You think that if you want. But the Sergeant said that they've brought in an experienced unit to train you. I get the feeling they're trying going to be training you like the newest SAS unit to come in here. And I don't think you're ready for that at all."

"Oh, I bet most of us can handle it." Brawny and cocky Sean Fort smirked as he rolled his eyes at the coach. "I was planning on enlisting when I graduated anyhow, I don't think you need to worry so much coach. They aren't going to push us round."

"Fort, shut up. You don't know anything." Sean lost his smirk as the coach's blue eyes bore into him. "Say or think what you will, but tomorrow this team is going to go out there and be trained with a seasoned SAS unit. And I want all of you to keep in line. I don't like it, but either way, I won't have my team making a fool of themselves. You'll get up, get out there, and do what you're told. Got it?"

There was a mumble of agreement and nods, most of the boys still thinking the man was over-reacting. Alex heard someone behind him mutter that 'the old man is getting dramatic.' But Alex knew better.

A few moments of silence followed before the coach shook his head and sighed.

"Get some sleep boys. You're going to be up early." With a last shake of his head, the weary man turned and left for his small bunkhouse next door.

Immediately the noise went up as all the boys went back to their games and conversations. Most were talking excitedly about the next day and the new lessons. They didn't pay any attention to the one boy who sat, unmoving, staring at the door the coach at left through. They were used to ignoring the strange Rider. Despite the fact that most of them now, from his recent state, believed the reports of chronic illness that plagued the boy, they still didn't much care to associate with him. Canter had been thoughtful before, sitting by him and explaining things. But that was because coach had told him to; it was his duty as team captain.

But now, glancing over at the still figure, he wouldn't think of approaching the younger boy. Rider was too secretive and intense. His eyes would bore into you, with this look that told you he knew everything about you, and most of the rest of the world too. No, Canter, and the rest of the school, wanted nothing to do with Alex Rider and his world.

A world which Alex was currently immersed in and falling deeper.

_Of course_. He thought as he stared unseeingly forward. He knew things were too good to last. How many times had he thought that in the last few months? It was getting old, had been for a while now. Alex wasn't going to fool himself in thinking that this wasn't because of him. When had something like this happened before, if it ever had? He knew the next day was _not_ going to fun and games. Life was going to get a lot harder, fast. And to think, not only a quarter of an hour earlier he'd been almost grateful to MI6. How many times, for how long, were they going to keep doing this to him?

With a suppressed groan, Alex lay back on his bed and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Only a year ago, Alex had never even thought of joining the army or intelligence. He'd actually always thought he'd like to be a mechanic. Not the best jobs, but it was predictable and he would never have to leave his home or family. He had never been one to really care about money much either.

Only a week ago, Alex was preparing to travel to America with his guardian to get a new start. He'd hardly been able to walk traverse the stairs in their house, and he'd wondered if Jack's family owned a very large estate.

Only an hour ago, Alex had been almost relaxed, his mind more at ease than in quite a while. Months even. He'd almost been enjoying the quarrelling of the boys who were playing a card game. Mark thought John had cheated. He had of course; Alex had seen him doing it.

Now he lay on his bed, tense and frustrated, listening to the other boys holler and talk. He didn't think he'd get much sleep tonight. He'd be too busy worrying over what tomorrow would bring.

S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S

"Oof! Ow- Jackal- get _off_!"

"Come on, Eagle!"

"NO! What's the matter with you? How many times do I have to tell you- I get the lower bunk. Always have, always will. Now leave it alone already. And Stop. Shoving. Me!"

"Ee-eagllle! I hate the top bunk! You know I roll in my sleep- I'm going to fall off every night!"

"Not my problem."

"And the smaller person should be on top- I'm a lot bigger than you!"

"Not my problem- and don't touch me!"

"Why can't you give the new guy a break? I'm not used to sleeping above someone else; I'm not used to it. I probably won't be able to get to sleep. I sleep really lightly; any little thing can keep me up all night!"

"Not my problem."

"You snore! You'll keep me up all night!"

"_How_ many times to have to say it's not my problem?! And I do not snore."

"Yes, you do snore. You so snore. You snore like a revved engine! You're louder than a motorboat and-"

"Jackal! Will you shut up?! You're absolutely insufferable!"

"I'm ins…? Now don't say that. I know I eat my fair share of every meal, and I can't help it that I like my tea time, same as anyone, but you don't need to make a big deal out of it- I don't eat _that_ much. And besides, I don't know what that has to do with you sleeping on the top bunk."

"I… you… _what_?! Eat your fair share of… Argh! I said that you're _insufferable_ you imbecile, not _insatiable_!"

"Oh… well, either way. Can I have the lower bunk?"

Wolf groaned from the other side of the room and stood from his bunk, where he'd been sharpening a long knife on a whetstone. Jackal was a good soldier: hardworking, never argued, and one of the bravest Wolf had ever served with. But honestly- the freckled-face, energetic man would drive them all mental before long.

"Eagle, Jackal- you'd both better shut up or I'm going to be testing the sharpness of this on your face!"

Jackal heaved a large, dramatic sigh, but finally stayed quiet. The red-head clomped over to the door and went to mope on the steps of the bunkhouse. He was very obedient, in awe, and, honestly, quite frightened of their unit leader. He'd let the matter go. For now.

Eagle, however, wasn't so easily cowed and scowled over at the dark man.

"Oh, don't you get on me about this, Wolf. I didn't start the argument. And don't pretend you don't know that he's only bothering me about my bunk because he knows you'll never budge off yours."

"Not my problem." Wolf shot back, quoting Eagle from before.

Eagle's gray-green eyes met Wolf's dark ones. A fierce staring contest went on for several moments, until a chuckle came from the top bunk across the room.

"You two bring it on yourselves." Snake, grinning knowingly, glanced down from where he had been trying to read an old astronomy book. "You're both too stubborn and you let him get to you."

"He really is insufferable." Eagle huffed as he looked away. Wolf grunted in agreement. "He acts like he's twelve years old."

"Maybe so. He does seem to have a never-ending supply of energy. And words. Although his vocabulary could use broadening a bit." Snake shook his head as Wolf sat heavily back down on the bunk below him. "But he's new at this, give him a break. Don't argue with everything he says, or even ninety percent of it."

"I've never argued with him." Wolf protested.

"Yeah, but that's because you scare him to death. Ease up mates. Fox is gone and we've got a new unit member that is a lot different than what we're used to. We'll just have to adapt."

"Oh, Mother Mary. Why did your father have to be a psychiatrist?" Eagle groaned burrowing his brown curls into his pillow. "You make it sound like we're all emotionally unstable."

"Someone has to break up the tough exterior of you hard-heads. We need closure to work as a team." Snake grinned as Wolf shoved his mattress to the side from beneath, almost knocking the Scotsman off. "Alright, I'm done. No more group therapy sessions tonight."

"Good, because we need to go over how we're going to handle the new assignment tomorrow." Wolf stated.

Eagle groaned again and peeked his head up from his pillow.

"Why did we have to get stuck with this job anyhow? We were doing great where we were stationed over in Salsburg."

"We finished the job there, Eagle. We weren't needed anymore." Wolf was pleased. They'd gotten that mess straightened up quickly and efficiently. It was exactly the way he did things when he was in charge, and besides that, it looked good on their records.

"And you know we've been due to our turn at training a batch of new recruits." Snake. Ever the logician. "We should've had to do it months ago, we've been lucky."

"Ha. Yeah, lucky." Eagle rolled his eyes. "Now, because of our oh-so-fortunate delay we get to try and teach a load of sniveling schoolchildren to not kill themselves. Much better. I mean, as if we haven't had our share of little schoolboys acting too big for themselves-"

"I think Jackal should be in here for this." Snake cut into Eagle's complaints. "He's part of the unit, remember? He should be involved in the planning."

"Alright Snake." Wolf retorted sharply. "No one was suggesting otherwise. Oi! Jackal- get your worthless hide in here!"

Jackal rushed back in, eyes glancing quickly around the room.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Jackal- calm down." Snake said hurriedly. "We're just going over our plans for tomorrow."

"Oh, right." Jackal blushed a bit, then plopped down at the end of Eagle's bed, landing on the other man's feet, who cried out in protest. "Well, me, I'm excited. I've never trained anyone before, let alone schoolchildren. I have some younger cousins and sometimes I teach them things, but my aunts and uncles don't always like me to. I don't know why, I think I'm pretty good actually. I mean, it wasn't really my fault when little Jerry kicked over that stand, I was only showing him to-"

"Yeah, Jackal, we get it!" Wolf rolled his eyes. "But you're not going to be doing a lot of the training, at least not at first. It'll be a team effort, for the most part. We won't split off for a while, since this is only your second assignment."

"That's alright. I can definitely learn by watching you all. I've heard that's one of the best ways of learning how to do something-"

"I'm sure it'll help." Snake cut in. Eagle was looking about ready to knock the babbling red head off its shoulders.

"We need to decide what we're going to have them do." Wolf got them back on track again. "It can't be the normal scheduled process new recruits go through. They may be a football team, but they won't be able to keep up. And I won't be responsible for what I do if they start crying or who knows what else."

"I don't know. They might be able to handle it. After all Cub did-"

Snake cut off as Wolf shot him a murderous glare.

"That was different." Cub was taboo in their unit. Wolf seemed to have some unspoken vendetta against the kid they had all treated so unsympathetically when he'd trained with them. Snake thought the short man's harsh opinion had changed some after his second run-in with the boy, but apparently not.

"Well, I don't see why we can't do at least part of the exercises." Eagle suggested, breaking the tension as he kicked Jackal over to make more room for his feet. "No point coming up with a brand new schedule when we don't need to. We could just tone it down some, not make them go as long, give them simpler goals- that sort of thing."

"It could work." Snake said thoughtfully. "Obviously some things we'd have to crop… Target shooting and the How to Handle Torture seminar among them. But the endurance runs, self-defense lessons, obstacle course- those sorts of things we could still do. Wouldn't be so hard, yeah? And they could be useful to them, in sports and things."

"Yeah! And they could do the attack situations and response drills! Those would be good. Like the paintball one- I'm sure a lot of those boys have used those before. We could definitely do that. And-"

"Jackal…" Wolf growled warningly, in part because the endless chatter was bothering him, but also because Eagle had sat up with a slight manic look and was eying Wolf's knife from earlier. "Yes, we could probably still do that. I don't see why we shouldn't follow them as closely to the planned schedule as we can. This is supposed to be in place of our training assignment anyhow."

The others nodded and Eagle flopped back onto his pillow.

"Good. Tomorrow, we get them up at 0500 sharp. We'd better get some sleep before that."

He lay back onto his bunk, signaling the others to do the same. Snake flipped the lights before he also lay down, and Eagle rolled over toward the wall with a mumble of "thinks he can give us a bedtime…", but promptly fell asleep.

Jackal stood in the middle of the small bunkhouse for several minutes. No point trying to get a bottom bunk tonight. All of the others were in a bad mood about this new assignment, and he knew he wouldn't get anywhere with his request.

He sighed as he lay on the bunk above Eagle, the shorter man's heavy snores drifting up from below. He'd be hard pressed to get any sleep with that awful racket.

S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S

Jack sat in front of the TV, staring, but not watching anything. She couldn't find it in herself to care about the stupid drama between Rachel and Ross. Her life was much more interesting.

Three days. She'd been back here in America for three days. She'd been welcomed and overwhelmed by her family. She'd been with her grandmother for hours, spoken with her late into the night. But now her parents were at work, and her grandmother resting in the hospital, and everyone else had things to do and places to be. And there was no one to distract her from her thoughts.

She hadn't wanted to come. Oh, she wanted to see her family and all, but she didn't want to leave Alex. Not again.

When he hadn't come home from practice on time, she immediately called the school. She almost went crazy when they told her there had been a bit of an emergency, but it had been taken care of and authorities would be in contact with her soon. She'd immediately grabbed her bag and keys and rushed over to the bank. It had to be about Alex. And she wasn't going to sit around at the house and wait for someone to think of her. Not this time.

Alan Blunt had been, relatively surprised, for the stoic man, when she'd marched angrily into his office. No one was quite sure how she'd gotten past security and found his office. But here she was, and she wasn't backing down.

They'd argued for quite a long time, in Alan's opinion. She wouldn't believe him that Rider was being cared for and needed to stay under heavy guard for his own protection. The foolish American woman had insisted that the boy would be safer and happier with her, in America. They'd been planning the trip, and she wasn't going to let MI6 get in her way again.

But it didn't matter. No matter what she said, threatened, even screamed, Blunt wouldn't budge. He wouldn't let this fiery American devil ruin his plans. Eventually he was fed up.

Guards came in and 'escorted' her back home. They'd 'assisted' her in packing up her things. She was 'led' into the airport and onto a plane. Her belongings had been 'secured' and she was 'accompanied' to DC.

Her parents had been 'notified in advance.' When they got to the airport, confused and worried, they'd received a sobbing, irate, redhead daughter on the verge of mauling her 'companions.'

She couldn't go back. She'd tried. Her visa wasn't accepted. She was stuck here with her relatives, feeling like her closest family member had been taken from her.

So now she sat on the couch in her family living room, alone. Some commercial came on for a great new truck, but she didn't see it. A crumpled bag of crisps, 3 empty diet cokes, and a popsicle stick lay about her. She was holding a box of Teddy Grams and Rainbow Chip frosting, dipping the small bears into the frosting. It was her comfort food. As a kid, she always had Teddy grams and frosting when she was especially upset or worried and had gotten frustrated when she found that the English equivalent was nowhere near the same.

She had been up since early this morning. She couldn't sleep. But she couldn't get herself do get up and do anything either. In another hour or two she'd probably feel disgusted with her eating habits and go on a long, exhausting run. She used to do that with Alex, it always helped her unwind.

_Oh Alex._ She thought, fighting a sob. _Where are you? Are you hurt, alone, afraid? Do you know that I didn't mean to leave you- I would never leave you! What have they told you? You know that I'll never give up, I'll never stop fighting for you. I won't let them control you- I'll put a stop to this. Please don't give up on me._

She sat up straighter and closed the lid on the frosting. She was going to fight for Alex. At this time, despite how much she loved her family, Alex was the most important person in her life. She had spent so much time with him, he was like her brother, son, and best friend, all in one. She wasn't going to sit here and forget about him. No matter how long it took, she would find him.

They hadn't won this round yet.

S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S – S – 2 – S

* * *

_A.N. So not a lot of action, but *shrug* It's what my mind wanted. It was quite a bit longer than most of the other chapters, yeah?_

_Review please! Sorry, I can't make any promises about an update, but don't give up on me._


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